


The Goods

by obsessiveninja



Series: Borra Week 2012 [5]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: But that's only if you get the reference, F/M, It has drug reference I guess, It's nothing major I think, Non-Canon Relationship, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 19:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessiveninja/pseuds/obsessiveninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra is desperate for something Bolin knows how to get. But what lengths will they go to to get it? Written for Borra Week 2012's day 5 prompt, Crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Goods

"Have you got the stuff?"

"Only if you've got what I asked for."

Korra sighed and placed the 200 yuans in Bolin's hand. "Now show me the goods."

"Whoa, tiger seal," Bolin held his money up. "I gotta count it first."

Korra tapped her foot impatiently as Bolin slowly flicked through the pay, note by note. "Twenty-one yuans, twenty-two yuans, twenty-three …"

"Seriously, Bolin?"

"Hey, math isn't my strong point, okay? Twenty-four yuans …"

Korra waited a three and a half minutes before Bolin had finished counting. "You're short by ten."

"You got me." She passed him the remainder of the price. "Now where is it?"

"Yeah, see, about that …"

"Oh, come on, Bolin!"

"No, no, I have it! It's just a complicated method, that's all."

"Complicated method?"

"Yeah, and maybe a sleazy source too …"

"Whom did you deal with now?"

"No one bad! Just … some contacts in the Triple Threats."

"The Triple Threats?!"

"They were the only guys I could get!"

"Bolin, I can't go into Triple Threat territory! I'm the Avatar!"

"… Oh." Bolin stroked his non-existent beard. "Disguise yourself?"

"Disguise myself?"

"Do you want your goods or not?"

"Oh, this? This is just my harmless and helpless Water Tribe cousin … Dorra."

"Dorra? Never heard that name coming from the Water Tribe before."

"She's an explorer."

The Triple Threat mobster was large, buff and frightfully hairy. They were standing in a shady alleyway outside a dim-lit doorway, and Korra was not the least bit comfortable. Her face was covered in (badly applied) make-up, and she was wearing an overcoat and a ridiculously large hat. It was the middle of summer in Republic City, and it was hot.

"An explorer, eh?" The hoodlum scratched his beard. "Where've you been?"

Korra opened her mouth to speak, but Bolin beat her to it. "She's mute. She can't talk."

The Avatar shot her companion a fierce glare, but gave him the benefit of doubt and remained silent. The mobster didn't seem to notice their exchange leaned back against the door.

"So … you two here for the package, Bolin? I thought you and your brother weren't into the criminal stuff."

Bolin cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Hey," he said nervously, "How about you just give us what we came for and we'll leave and get out of your way and never bother you again? Sound good? Does that sound good to you, Dorra?"

Korra nodded quickly.

"Oh no you don't." The big man grabbed the two by their arms, opened the door and dragged them into the dark room. A light bulb flickered on, and Korra and Bolin were blinded as they were dumped on the floor. Her vision was restored in a few seconds, and Korra could just about make out the mobster's figure retreating into a corridor.

"What have you got us into now, Bolin?" she hissed at her friend, who was still rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, don't worry," Bolin said, "I got it covered."

The gangster walked back in carrying a small crate. "Now," he said, "I've got your goods in this here crate, and I'm nice enough to make you a deal." He stepped forward and his shadow loomed over the two of them. "I'll give you what you need … but only if you dance for me."

The room was so silent, Korra could hear the crickets chirp outside. Once the mobster's message had sunk in, it took all of Korra's willpower not to breathe fire at the man's face.

"D-dance?!" Bolin yelped.

"That's right," the man smirked. "You two make a pretty cute couple. So dance."

"What do you mean, cute couple?" Korra nudged him not-quite-so-gently on the side. "Ow! I mean … hey! You can't just do that!"

"Do you want the crate or not?"

Bolin turned to Korra and looked at her for assistance. She sighed (mentally). If only the idiot had not broadcasted to the Triple Threats that she was mute. She could've easily disguised herself as a firebender friend of his, but no … she had to be Dorra, his mute explorer cousin from the Water Tribe. Dorra, of all things! She looked into his pleading jade eyes. She had never been able to fully appreciate how beautiful they were. The green was bright, yet not overly so, and it made Korra think grass and sunshine and meadows where she and Bolin would roll around and …

Korra gave herself a mental slap and snapped back to reality. She focused on the task at hand. Earthbend our butts out of here, Korra tried to communicate to Bolin using mere brainpower. Surely this Avatar stuff meant she could do that, right?

The confusion written all over Bolin's face meant only one thing: he had absolutely no clue what she was trying to say. She sighed and gave him a small nod. There was nothing else she could do.

"Fine." Bolin got to his feet. "Dorra? Let's dance!"

Korra hissed.

"Sorry!"

She wasn't used to this kind of dancing. Back in the Water Tribe, dancing meant drums and hollering and lots of jumping and flailing of the arms. But in Republic City, it was an entirely different story. This was a lot more intimate; Bolin had one arm around her waist, and she had to keep one on his shoulder, and they had to sway gently to jazzy, modern music. And, unfortunately, neither of them was good at it.

"Ouch!"

Korra looked at Bolin, trying to make as apologetic a pout as she possible could. This was the seventh time Korra had stepped on his foot – that was two more times than Bolin had stepped on hers. She didn't understand why this odd mobster was so keen on watching them dance together. She shuddered; she didn't even want to think about the reasons why.

The earthbender was huge. Korra found it odd that she had never noticed it before. They spent a lot of time with each other in practice and at friendly outings, but after all this time she never realised how large he was. She had never recalled his shoulders being so hard and firm; she always remembered him being more like a cushion or a pillow. But, she supposed, what bends rock must be built like rock.

Another sharp pain in her foot. Korra growled just loud enough for Bolin to hear.

"Sorry!"

"That's enough!" the mobster thundered. Both Bolin and Korra snatched their hands away and immediately stepped away from each other. "You kids were terrible! Why, my gran gran could dance better than that!" He shook his head and smiled. "But the amount of discomfort going on between you two was amusing, so I'm going to give you a six out of ten."

"So can we go now – ow!" Korra jabbed her elbow in Bolin's side again. She was not leaving without her package. "With the package! I mean, with the package, jeez!"

Korra lay on the floor of her bedroom, exhausted, while Bolin greedily prepared the contents of their crate. The box was surprisingly heavy, and Korra and Bolin had to take turns carrying it on the way back. Sneaking it into the island and the women's dormitory was an entirely different level of tricky, and there was the matter of stealing some extra things from the pantry, but the results were worth it. She stared at her earthbender companion, his brow furrowed in concentration as he concocted their snack. How she would love it if he could tend for her like this for the rest of her life … Korra blinked. Why did she just think that?

"Korra?" Bolin interrupted her thoughts, "I think I'm going to need a fire here, so if you wouldn't mind …"

The Avatar was one step ahead of him. She procured a flame and cupped it in her hands, reaching over to hold it under Bolin's pot.

All this trouble for a bowl of tentacle soup.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know ... I wanted to make it sound like drugs, but it didn't really work out, I think.  
> I reckon this is the fluffiest out of all the Borra fics I've done for the week. Or ever, for that matter. But it was fucking day 5, so I had to put the prompt in somewhere.


End file.
